


Stranded!

by smallumbrella



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Boys Kissing, Flirting, Ghosts, M/M, Nightmares, Not murdery ghosts, Sad Ghosts, Secret Crush, She's cool though, There might be a witch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26991664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallumbrella/pseuds/smallumbrella
Summary: Two idiots secretly crushing on one another go on a vendor run a week before their store opens. It's going to take a paranormal experience to get them to see the light.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 59
Kudos: 145
Collections: Schitt's Creek Trick Or Treat





	Stranded!

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCTrickOrTreat](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCTrickOrTreat) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> It's a Schitt's Creek Ghost Story
> 
> Thank you missgeevious for your beta work and support!

***

Stevie’s eyebrows shoot up when David walks through the lobby door at seven thirty in the morning. “I did not think you capable of consciousness before ten. Patrick’s power of persuasion must be—”

David cuts her off with a dismissive gesture. “You’re kind.” He droops against the front desk and heaves a tired sigh. “You have the thing? The cooler?”

“Yes.” Stevie goes into the back room and comes back out with a big, red cooler. She sets it on the counter. “As you know, our ice machine doesn’t work, so you’ll have to get some from the Café.” 

David eyes the cooler warily. “I have to carry this monster to the Café?” He sags further down on the counter, dropping his head onto his arms. “Ugh, Stevieeeeee. Drive meeeeee.”

“For God’s sake, you’re pathetic. Come on.” She comes out from behind the counter.

David perks right up. “Thank you so much. You are, literally, the best person.” He moves toward the door.

“Shut up before I change my mind.” She follows him and pokes him in the back. “Get the cooler, dumbass. I’m not carrying it for you!” 

On the drive, Stevie asks, “Where are you guys going?”

“I don’t even know. It’s a farm, Robert’s, or something? Selna Robert is a weaver. She just showed up last week at the Apothecary wearing this remarkable ruana she’d made. She showed us some pictures of her other work and it was all so gorgeous we signed a contract with her right then. Anyway, we want to get her things in the shop before we launch next week. We’re picking up a bunch of rugs and blankets.”

“Wait. You’re going to Robert’s Ranch? That’s like, way out there on that forest road thirteen right?”

“I guess? I know it’s _hours_ away. That’s why we’re borrowing Roland’s truck so we can pick up a lot of merchandise in one trip so we don’t have to make the drive but maybe once a year? Or quarter? It depends on how well they sell.”

“David, you know about forest road thirteen don’t you?”

“I know it’s all dirt, that’s why I’m dressed like a ranch hand.” He makes a gesture at his clothes.

Stevie looks at his ripped knee skinny jeans and long sleeve shirt with _Nonchalance_ written across the chest. She snorts. “A ranch hand! Right. No, the bridge on thirteen is haunted, David.”

“Shut up. It is not!” A worried frown flashes across his brow before he can stop it.

Stevie stifles a grin. “It is! The story is that every full moon these two ghosts come and stand on either side of the bridge and nobody can get by! The ghosts just reach out their arms and moan.”

“Ew, Stevie! You’re giving me goosebumps! Stop it! Tonight’s not even the full moon. Is it? And I don’t believe in ghosts.” He swallows hard. “ _Is_ it a full moon, though?”

“How the fuck would I know? Do I look like I know moon phases?” David gives her a look, because, well, a witchy thing like that wouldn’t be a surprise. But before he can answer, she says, “You know, if you do get stranded, you should cuddle up with your business partner and confess your crush.”

David huffs and crosses his arms. “You are full of unsubstantiated rumors today aren’t you? There’s no ghosts. There’s no crush. And there’ll be no cuddling.” He turns to the window to hide the smile he can’t suppress, because oh yes, _massive crush,_ and oh yes, _cuddling with Patrick would be ah-mazing_. He bites his lip.

*

Patrick slides cash across the counter. “Thanks for the ice and making the sandwiches so early, Twyla. We have a long drive and I don’t want David getting hangry.” He looks toward the door and back to Twyla. “He should be here soon with the cooler.”

Twlya smiles radiantly. She has no other smile setting. “Where are you two off to today?”

“Robert’s Ranch to pick up some rugs and blankets. It’s pretty far—”

Twyla’s bright smile disappears. “Robert’s Ranch? But tonight’s the full moon!”

Patrick frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Twyla’s voice is full of concern. “Robert’s Ranch is on forest road thirteen. Between here and there is a haunted bridge. It can’t be crossed on a full moon.” 

Patrick smirks skeptically, but he looks around to see if David has shown up yet. He’s fairly certain his business partner would be alarmed by this story. Though his crush-addled brain _does_ suggest that holding David close while he’s scared of ghosts would be heavenly. Maybe he should know what the ghost story is, just in case. 

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. What’s the story?”

Twyla glances side to side and leans over the counter. She pitches her voice low. “Back in the eighteen hundreds these two men— I think they were botanists or something? They were on opposite banks of the river when a flash flood washed the bridge out. Story is that they were afraid to lose sight of each other so neither one of them went for help.” She drops her chin. “They say,” she intones dramatically, “they died from loneliness.” She perks up. “But it was more likely starvation or exposure!” Again, the brilliant smile lights up her face. 

Patrick files this away. Lonely ghosts. This will definitely be a story to tell David on the way back from the vendor. He’s picturing David’s eyes, shining with nervous excitement in the darkness of the truck’s cab. Maybe he’ll scoot closer on the bench seat. Patrick could put an arm around him...

Patrick is startled out of his daydream by David huffing up behind him and setting the cooler noisily on the floor. 

*

David stands up straight after dropping the cooler. “Tell me why am I up so early again?” He removes his sunglasses and looks Patrick up and down. He bites down on a smile. How can he look so good, this early? With his big eyes and his plain white t-shirt. And his sweet face. And his very flattering, faded jeans. My god, David wants to unwrap him like a gift. He meets Patrick’s eyes. “Hi.” He’s surprised at how breathy he sounds. 

Patrick smiles shyly and answers with a similar tone. “Hi.” They stare at each other for a beat before Patrick clears his throat. “Uh, because we have a five-hour drive. One way. Here.” Patrick hands him a large to-go cup. “Caramel macchiato, skim, two sweeteners, and a sprinkle of cocoa powder.”

David’s eyes soften. He uses both hands to take the cup from Patrick, running his fingers along the back of his hand. Patrick goes still and gazes into his eyes, the smallest smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. David widens his eyes and presses his lips together. He maintains eye contact. Patrick holds it; then a gorgeous smile breaks through and he ducks his head _._ His ears turn pink.

David is suddenly very happy to be awake at this ridiculous hour, on this gorgeous morning. He’s going to be alone with Patrick for hours and hours. And they’re already kind of flirting. This is going to be a good, good day. 

Twyla gives them a bucket of ice for the cooler and they get it packed with sandwiches and drinks. David starts to bend down to pick up one side of the cooler when Patrick leans past him and just picks up the cooler by himself. His biceps bulge and the cords on his neck stand out and he makes a noise in the back of his throat that makes David’s mouth go dry. He gapes.

“Wanna get the door David?”

David’s eyes snap away from Patrick’s chest, _arm, shoulder, and my god, his neck_ and up to his eyes. “W-what?”

Patrick is blushing but he smirks. “Get the door, please?” _Fuck._ David rarely blushes but his cheeks feel suspiciously warm right now. “Of course, sorry.” He holds the door for Patrick and then rushes back to the counter to pick up his tea. 

*

Patrick can’t keep his smile down as he puts the cooler in the bed of Roland’s truck. David was definitely checking him out. He’s really happy he chose to wear a t-shirt today. No one needs to know that he did a hundred pushups this morning to pump up his chest and arms. That’s nobody’s business.

*

David comes out of the gas station with a bag of snacks in one hand and a gallon of windshield wiper fluid in the other. Roland insisted that they would run out on the drive. Patrick is cleaning the windshield with the squeegee thing. He has to stand up on the edge of the open driver’s side door to reach. He rolls his eyes at David when he approaches. “His wiper fluid is full. His windshield is a mess ‘cause his wipers are shot. We’re not buying him wipers.” 

“No, we are not.” David agrees. He smiles, this feels so domestic, like they’re boyfriends on a road trip. It’s a very cozy thought. He gets into the passenger side as Patrick rounds the front of the truck. 

“Don’t close the door.”

David pulls his hand back from the door handle. “Oh, okay. What—”

Patrick steps inside David’s door and grabs the edge of the roof with one hand and steps up on the side, reaching over to clean the other half of the windshield. David exhales and presses back against the seat. He slowly turns his head and takes in the view. Patrick’s crotch is _right there_. His thick fingers grip the upper edge of the door frame making his forearm ripple. His t-shirt is riding up as he reaches across the window. It would be seriously inappropriate to take a picture of this right? But. Holy hell. David sneaks a glance at Patrick’s belly. He’s got a light brown treasure trail that disappears under the waistband of his jeans. David’s imagination follows it down. He blinks dreamily and licks his lips. My god. 

*

Twice. David has checked him out twice. Patrick is giddy. Sure, it was a little obvious doing the windshield, but it did need to be cleaned and he really can’t reach it any other way. He’d peeked down through the window at one point and David was staring at his crotch. Patrick almost fell over. Christ. 

They are in the second hour of the drive when David’s head starts nodding sleepily. Patrick turns down the music. “You can sleep if you want to.”

David turns toward him a little and leans his head against the seat back. “Nnn. I’m good. I don’t want you to get lonely.” He reaches out and swipes lazily at Patrick’s arm. Without thinking, Patrick catches David’s hand and brings it halfway to his lips before he realizes what he’s doing. To cover, he gives it a shake and a squeeze and lets go. David makes a small sound. 

Patrick glances at him but can’t see his eyes behind his white framed sunglasses. “I’ll be fine. Better, probably, without you pawing at me.Take a nap.” 

David pulls his sunglasses down his nose an inch and peers over them, giving Patrick a look that should probably be registered as a weapon. One eyebrow raised, his full lips quirk to the left, a deep dimple on that side as he tries to tuck away his smile. It’s a very, very good look. Patrick laughs a little breathlessly and looks at the road. 

David pulls sunglasses off then and pats at his under-eyes delicately. He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “M’kay.” He turns his body and leans back against the door, folding one leg under the other. 

Patrick keeps his eyes on the road for a solid five minutes before he steals a glance at David. He’s _so_ pretty. Honestly, it’s startling. He hadn’t put his sunglasses back on so Patrick can see his long, dark lashes against his cheek. His lips are perfect. Patrick looks at the road and then back at David. He’s so broad across the chest. Patrick’s eyes drift lower. David’s hips are narrow. He imagines bracketing them with his thighs. Oh god, David’s thighs. And the way his bent knee is up on the seat, his lap, his… Patrick shifts in this seat. He makes himself concentrate on the road. 

*

In his sleep, David hears Patrick’s voice. His bed is sort of rocking and then it stops. Patrick’s voice again. Then it’s quiet. His brain picks at these things and when it can’t parse them, he starts waking up. Oh, right. Not in his bed. David’s eyes pop open. He’s in Roland’s truck. He’s _alone_ in Roland’s truck. The driver's side door is open. Patrick is gone. Through the windshield he sees a bridge. 

David sits up. “Patrick?” 

It’s quiet. Just the babble of the stream and the drone of insects. 

His heart rate accelerates. Okay. _That’s_ the haunted bridge and the _ghosts_ have Patrick. It’s the only explanation. 

There’s a rustling sound from behind the trees that is _definitely_ a ghost or a bear. David lunges across the seat to close the driver’s side door when Patrick pulls on the door from the other side. “Hey.”

David yelps. He sits up and presses both hands against his chest. “You scared the shit out of me! Where did you go?”

“I told you I had to stop to pee.”

His voice is too high but he can’t help it. “You didn’t tell me anything! I thought the bridge ghosts got you! Why would you leave me alone with the bridge ghosts Patrick?”

Patrick is laughing softly. His eyes are so warm and fond and, frankly, beautiful and distracting, but David is mad about being scared so he continues to flail his hands. “You left me _alone_ , and _asleep_ by the ghost bridge! _With_ the door open! Something could’ve gotten in here!” 

Patrick is behind the wheel now. “I did tell you. Twice. You nodded at me the second time so I thought you understood. I’m sorry I scared you.” He puts his hand on David’s knee, running his thumb over the exposed skin through the rip there. His face does a startled thing and he pulls his hand back. David isn’t mad anymore. 

He takes a deep, cleansing breath. “Okay. I guess I forgive you since nothing got me.” 

“I’m very relieved you forgive me, David. So, bridge ghosts.” 

“Yes. Stevie told me ghosts don’t let anyone cross on the full moon but it’s _not_ a full moon so we’ll be fine. It’s not a full moon is it Patrick?” David still doesn’t know for sure. He should look it up. He glances at his phone but there’s no reception. 

Patrick is reassuring. “I think we’ll be fine regardless, David. Do you believe in ghosts?”

“N-no. But is it? A full moon tonight?”

“Twyla told me it is, actually.”

“Twyla?! Why did she mention the full moon?” His hands start their pre-flight warm-up.

“She may have told me a similar story.”

“What are we going to do now?” His hands swoop up and apart.

“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”

David forces his hands into his lap, but they pop up every couple of words. “I don’t. It’s just. I don’t know, weird, is all.” 

“Well, we are around halfway between Robert’s Ranch and home. It’s about two and-a-half hours in either direction. We can turn around if you’re really worried, but that just means we’ll have to make this long-ass drive another day. Your call.”

“Ugh. Don’t make it my call!”

“It is, though, I’m good either way.” Patrick pauses and gives him a sly smile. “I ain’t afraid o’ no ghosts.”

David grimaces. “Cute. Of course _you_ don’t believe in ghosts.” He huffs and looks out the side window so Patrick can’t see his face. God, Stevie would give him the biggest ration of shit for this. He’s embarrassed that he’s being so fussy. He turns and scowls at him. “Ugh! Fine. Keep going.”

Patrick pats his knee again. “I really think we’ll be okay. Besides, I think they’re just sad ghosts and not murder ghosts.”

David rears back, horrified. “Murder ghosts! Why would you even say that to me?” 

Laughing, Patrick buckles his seat belt and starts the truck. He puts it in drive and commands, “Now gimme something sweet out of your snack bag, David. Candy repels ghosts.” 

“You’re funny.” But he’s distracted now because bossy Patrick _really_ works for him and David wants to give him his entire _snack bag_ so to speak. He digs around in the bag. He bought suckers, blow-pops to be specific, both for being ripe for dirty jokes and to watch Patrick wrap his mouth around the big ball of hard candy on a stick. “What flavor, grape or cherry?”

“You pick.”

David hands him the grape. He wants his own lips and tongue to be tinted pink. He wants to see what Patrick’s face does when he sees it. The rest of the drive goes by quickly.

They pull into Robert’s Ranch at two o’clock in the afternoon. 

“Wow,” David breathes. “This place is beautiful.”

Patrick puts the truck in park and they take it in their surroundings. 

The house and the barn are both clapboard constructed. The wood is weathered to a beautiful silver grey. There are vines growing up one side and over the top of the covered porch. In the distance they can see a flock of sheep grazing on a far green hill. It’s quiet except for an occasional bleating and bird song.

There’s movement on the shadowy front porch and a small woman with long, white curls, comes down the steps. She has a thin white wrap around her shoulders that floats out behind her as she crosses the yard to greet them. 

“Hello, gentlemen! Good to see you again! Welcome! Welcome!” 

*

They load a dozen big rugs and a box of blankets into the truck bed and Patrick notices a bottle of wine tucked into the box. “What’s this?” 

Selna gestures across the fields. “My neighbor has a tiny winery. You should sample it for your store.” She winks at him slyly and then invites them in for a snack. 

Patrick hesitates, it’s a very long drive back, but David looks at him with his eyes all alight and he acquiesces. He’s never met anyone with an appetite like David’s. It’s, well, Patrick finds it compelling. It makes him wonder what else he can’t get enough of. 

They chat idly for a bit, making their way through a plate of cheese and crackers and big glasses of lavender mint iced tea. Patrick makes a mental note to ask David if they should carry tea at the store. David is thoroughly enjoying everything and Patrick is thoroughly enjoying watching him. The third time Selna catches him looking at David’s mouth he blushes. Alarmingly, it looks to him as if she might actually say something about it so he steers the conversation. “So, Selna! A couple of people told us that the bridge we crossed coming in is haunted. What have you heard?” Beside him, David leans forward. 

She smiles softly. “Ah yes, that’s Boyd and Jonah. That’s a story for sure.” Selna seems to gather herself up. She sets her glass down and arranges her shoulders. “That’s a family tale, you know. My great-grandmama was Boyd’s niece. She never met him a’course, he was but twenty-four when he passed. And her mama couldn’t’a been but fifteen or sixteen at the time. The story that’s been passed down, well, I’m sure it’s been embellished over the years, as happens with all good love stories.”

Patrick glances at David and back to Selna. “Love story? I thought it was a ghost story.” 

“Oh it’s both. It’s both. See, Uncle Boyd met Jonah whilst they was studyin’ botany, their first year at university. They couldn’t’a been more diff’rnt. Boyd was tall and dark. Kinda broody and artistic, you shoulda seen the drawings of plants he done. And Jonah? He was a farm boy. All sturdy stock and practical. But, oh, drawn together like magnets they was! And just fascinated by plants, the both of ‘em. And once’n they found each other they was like peas in a pod. Never apart. All the time at the library with their heads in books. The following year they started roomin’ together.” She picks up her glass and takes a sip of tea, gazing out the window.

“They came up here to study some type of late bloomin’ flower. Boyd was on this side of the bridge and Jonah was on the far side. They were right on the banks of the river within eyeballin’ distance. There were a lot more bears and wolves about back then, so they kept close enough to keep an eye out for one another.”

David inhales and shifts his eyes to the window. As if a bear would appear simply from being mentioned. He unconsciously moves closer to Patrick on the sofa. Patrick smiles shyly at the short space between their knees. When he looks up, Selna is looking at him. She smiles knowingly and continues. 

“Well, the storm musta happened a ways upstream ‘cause they had clear skies over head. The water just roared down the mountain. The boys were able to get away from the river’s edge but it took that bridge right out. Took their horses too. Water stayed high for weeks. Too swift and too high to safely cross. Neither one could bear to lose sight of the other so they stayed put, waiting for the water to subside. It never did. It never did.”

David breaths a shuddery sigh. 

“Now, story goes, they passed at the same time. On the night of the full Harvest moon. Right on the day of the fall equinox. Ever since, on every full moon, there’s just no gettin’ across that bridge once night falls. Not on foot. Not on horseback. Not in a car.” She looks meaningfully at the two men sitting across from her. 

David’s eyes are like saucers. “What happens to people who try?”

“Well, if they don’t panic and run off and get lost in the woods, they’re fine. It’s just that cars stall out and won’t start ‘til mornin’. Horses refuse to cross, but can go back the way they came. Some folks hear those boys cryin’ for each other. Some folks hear the water.”

“That’s a heartbreaking story, Selna.” Patrick says quietly. He’s thinking about loving someone so much you’d rather die than lose sight of them. 

David sighs again. “It’s just so, so sad. And romantic? And a little scary, but, we'll be fine right? I mean, I’m sure we’ll be fine on our way out.” He leans into Patrick’s shoulder and Patrick beams at him with soft eyes.

*

Selna cuts her eyes away and makes a noncommittal sound. If the two men notice her avoiding the subject they don’t say anything. They _don’t_ notice, of course. David leaned into Patrick and she could practically see the current of the electricity between them. The truth is, she’d intentionally invited them on the full moon. She’d seen it all in a vision the moment she stepped foot in the apothecary. 

She’d been dreaming about roses for a week before that moment. Sometimes there was a big white dog there, sometimes a slinky black cat, sometimes both. So when Selna had taken her old truck to Bob’s and saw Rose Apothecary? Well, she knew she had to go in. 

She knows that young folks these days usually don’t believe in the spirits and energy fields but she could tell right away that David has a bit of a shine on him. It’s clear to her that he takes on the energy of people and places, but doesn't understand that it doesn’t belong to him. Poor lad suffers for it too. He feels so much. 

The other boy, he’s as steady as they come. A pure-heart if she ever saw one. She can see a pile of bones and bricks at his base though, like he’s had to tear something substantial down. But there’s also a youthfulness about him, like whatever he tore down revealed something bright and brand new. 

She’d known within five minutes of meeting the two of them at the apothecary that they were crazy for each other. Her other sight could plainly see the power of them if they could figure it out. How the energies could be released to grow and change. For them as individuals and as a couple, for their community and maybe, just maybe, for Boyd and Jonah too. That was her hope anyway. 

*

It’s dark by the time the bridge comes into view. The moon is clear and bright in the break between the trees. 

Patrick reaches out and pats David’s knee. “See? There it is. The truck is running fine. We’ll be across in just one—”

The truck dies and rolls to a stop with its front tires a meter away from the bridge's edge. 

David whips his head around to look at Patrick. “Very funny.”

Patrick chuckles nervously. “Um, that’s weird.” He turns the key. Nothing happens. Not the wheezing of a motor trying to turn over. Not the click-click-click of a dead battery. Nothing.

“Please tell me you’re fucking with me right now!” 

“David. I’m… ” Patrick doesn’t finish his sentence. He pumps the gas a few times and turns the key again. Nothing. 

“Patrick. Start the truck. Come on.”

“David, I swear to you I’m not playing around. Here, you try.” Patrick opens the door and gets out, motioning for David to scoot over into the driver’s seat.

David frowns and cuts his eyes at him. “This better not be a funny way to get me to drive in the dark woods.” When Patrick stays quiet, he slides under the wheel and pumps the gas twice, pauses, then turns the key. Still nothing. “Patrick.” His voice is low and worried.

Patrick’s heart rate has ratched up a bit but it’s fine. This is fine. He doesn’t believe in hauntings. This is just Roland’s crappy truck acting up. Right? He wants to comfort David, so he pushes down his own concern. He puts a hand on either side of the open door. “Hey, it’s fine. Pop the hood and we’ll take a look.”

David is still gripping the steering wheel with both hands. He presses his lips together and starts feeling around under the dash for the lever. He throws his hands up in frustration. “I don’t! I can’t! I don’t know!”

“Okay. It’s okay, here let me.” Patrick leans into the truck, his side presses against David’s thigh and his breath catches. Oh good god. He backs out again. “Can you scoot?”

David is staring at him. At this moment, there’s no worry in his eyes, there’s something else. Hot and intense. David closes his eyes and clears his throat and moves into the middle of the bench seat. Patrick feels around under the dash and finds the lever. The hood pops up with a metallic thunk. 

“Does your phone have a flashlight?”

“Yeah.”

Patrick steps back to let him get out. “Bring it out here. I’ll need light to look at the engine.”

David doesn’t move. “You want me to get out of the truck.”

“Yes, David, I need you to hold the light.”

David scans the woods through the windshield. “Out there though.”

Patrick nods his head in an exaggerated way. “Yes, out here! What are you—”

“Bears okay? Bears and wolves are out there! And Selna said people on foot wander off!”

What’s happening is so fucking weird but David is so fucking cute and Patrick just wants to wrap him up in a big hug and reassure him. He smiles. “Okay, I’m not going to let you _wander off_ David. And Selna said there _used_ to be bears and wolves. Used to. Past tense.”

“Still.”

“Come on, I won’t let anything get you.” He rests his hands on the seat. “I’ll throw myself between you and anything with teeth. I promise.”

*

Patrick’s eyes are warm and David forgets everything for a minute. He’s surprised how easy it is to imagine Patrick looking out for him. Saving him if necessary. It’s reassuring. And extremely attractive. And hot. It’s very, very hot.

He smirks. “You say that now. What if the ghosts have teeth?” He scoots back under the steering wheel, his thigh slides over Patrick’s hands that are still on the seat. 

“Oh.”

“Uh.” Patrick pulls his hands out from under David and shoves them into his pockets as he steps back to give him space to get out. 

Patrick opens the hood and peers inside. David dutifully holds his phone up. 

“Here, use mine too.” Patrick hands David his phone with the flashlight lit.

David takes it and holds them both over the engine compartment. “You know what you’re looking at?”

“I know basic stuff. Like, look there, the battery looks brand new. The connections are clean, so that’s not the problem.” He checks the oil and the water levels. He pokes at the belts. Everything looks fine. 

Patrick rests his hands on edge of the engine compartment and hangs his head. “There’s nothing wrong that I can see. I’m sorry I’m not more of a mechanic David.”

He looks truly disappointed in himself. 

“Hey, you’re way more of a mechanic than me. I couldn’t even open the lid.”

“Hood. Do you have cell reception? Maybe Selna can come get us?” 

At that moment, the flashlight on David’s phone turns off. “What the fuck? I didn’t do that!”

“Your battery die?”

“We haven’t had reception so I’ve had it off most of the day! It can’t be dead!” Alarm raises his voice an octave.

The flashlight on Patrick’s phone goes dark then. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” He holds it out and Patrick takes it from him. He pokes at it, but it stays dark. 

David opens the passenger side door. “Maybe there’s a lighter or matches.” He checks the glove box. “Found a lighter!” He brings it back and lights it under the hood. The small flame is nowhere near bright enough. He makes a frustrated noise and lets the flame go out. He shoves the lighter into his pocket. “We’re stranded aren’t we.”

“Unless you want to walk the eighty kilometers back to Selna’s, I’m afraid so.”

“Yeah, through bear-infested woods? Risking full moon induced panic wandering? I think not.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t like this Patrick!”

“I know, me neither, but Selna said nothing happens to people. We’ll be okay. And look.” He puts his hands on David’s upper arms and rubs them up and down soothingly. “I mean, for real. Look around. It’s a nice night, listen how quiet it is out here. It reminds me of camping.” 

“How are we supposed to sleep here?”

“We have that big box of Selna’s blankets. You can sleep in the cab. The bench might be a little short for you but you’d be inside, away from bear-ghosts and wolfmen.”

“Very funny. What about you?”

“I can crash in the bed of the truck. With all of Selna’s rugs under me and the blankets over me it’ll be more comfortable than camping. Probably more comfortable than in there.” Patrick tilts his chin toward the cab. 

_Can I stay back there with you?_ David swallows. He wishes he had the nerve to say it out loud.

David takes a cleansing breath and finally does look around. It _is_ kind of nice. He can hear the stream singing to itself under the bridge. The moon is beautiful and bright. It’s not cold, but just cool enough that the mosquitoes aren’t being a bother. “You sure you’re going to be okay out here?”

“Absolutely. Come on, help me get the rugs spread out.” Patrick drops the tailgate and pulls out the big box of blankets and puts it on the ground. They start pulling and shifting the rugs until the whole bed of the truck is covered, rolling up the last two to put at the top like a pillow. Patrick picks the box back up and puts it on the tailgate. He rests his hand on top of it and looks at David.

“You know. We still have a couple sandwiches and that bottle of wine Selna gave us. We should just make a night of it.” 

David’s stomach flips pleasantly. “Sure. Okay.”

Patrick’s eyes gleam. He shrugs one shoulder and gestures into the truck bed. “After you.”

David cuts his eyes at him. “Alright, I’m not graceful. Don’t watch me.” He puts a knee up on the tailgate. “Seriously, look away.” He puts his hands down on the bed and pulls his other knee up. He crawls forward a bit and then turns around to make sure Patrick isn’t watching. He catches Patrick staring at his ass. He grins. “Hello! I said, look away!” Patrick jumps and looks up but he’s doing that thing where his smile is turned upside down. David likes that smile.

*

They each finish a sandwich, passing the wine bottle back and forth between them until it’s half empty. Patrick leans back against the rolled up rugs and looks at the sky. This is possibly the most stars he’s ever seen. It’s almost surreal. Even with the full moon, there’s more light than dark up there. David shivers beside him.

“Gettin’ cold?”

“Yeah. Little.” 

“Here. Let me get you a blanket.” Patrick walks on his knees to the box of blankets. 

He lifts the top blanket off the pile and hands it back to David. When he turns back to get one for himself, he finds a leather bound book. “Hey, what’s this?” He picks it up and turns it over in his hands. It _feels_ old. He opens the book. “Whoa.” 

“What is it?” David sits forward. “Bring it over.” Patrick grabs a second blanket and knee walks back to where David is leaning against the rolled up rugs. He hands David the notebook and spreads the blankets over both of them. 

David gasps softly “Oh wow. Patrick. I think… could it be Boyd’s field notes? Look!” David holds it up and angles it so the moon shines on the page. 

There’s delicate drawings of leaves and flowers and rows and rows of tidy handwriting. The paper feels fragile.

Patrick turns a page carefully. There’s an intricate drawing of a flowering vine spanning two pages.“Oh, this is beautiful!”

David’s voice is low with wonder. “This is remarkable. How did it get in the box?”

Patrick turns another page. A loose sheet slips out. David catches it. The page has an ink sketch of a man’s face. Both of them gasp. The man was obviously beautiful and obviously loved by the artist. The subject appears to be looking right into their eyes. David traces a finger lightly along the man’s jaw and whispers, “He was looking right into the artist’s eyes. Look at that, Patrick. Look at the love in his eyes. Jonah and Boyd were so in love.” 

David holds up the loose page. It looks to have two different sets of handwriting. He can’t make out what it says though. He leans even farther into Patrick’s shoulder and digs the lighter out of his pocket. He lights the flame and the words jump into focus. He reads aloud.

_For beautiful Jonah,_

_You are the sun_

_I am the moon_

_I reflect your light_

_From across the room_

_I exist by your heat_

_I have none of my own_

_Without you I cease_

_For you are my home_

_\- Boyd_

“Oh my god.” David gasps. “Wow that’s so— Ow!” He hisses, the lighter goes out and drops into Patrick’s lap.

Patrick feels the heat of it though his jeans and snatches it up. 

David sighs. “Gosh, that was beautiful. You are the sun? I am the moon? Wow.” 

They look at each other. They’re so close. Patrick can feel the heat of him where their shoulders are pressed together. He can smell him, he smells like warmth and wine and something secret that Patrick wants to discover. The moonlight glints in his eyes, and silvers his hair and Patrick would give anything to kiss him right now. God, he wishes he knew if that was something David truly wants.

David looks away. “Read the next part, Patrick.”

Patrick lights the lighter and reads.

_My beloved Boyd,_

_You know I’m not half the poet that you are, dear one. I only hope that you hear my heart._

_If I’m light, I’m a beacon for you to follow home to me. If I’m warm, it’s you that lit the flame._

_If you are the moon then you must also be stars. For you span my horizon, my love_

_A galaxy of you. A universe of you. There’s only you. Only you._

_-Jonah_

Patrick swallows around the lump in his throat. He looks up at the stars to keep tears from forming. That’s Love. With a capital L. That’s love like he’s never felt before. That’s a love he thinks he might be able to reach one day. Maybe even soon. 

David presses their shoulders together. “Have you ever been in love Patrick?”

Patrick leans in too. “Yeah. Sort of. I thought I was. Not like that, though. Have you?”

David shrugs. “No. Maybe sort of too, but not like that.”

“It’s weird isn’t it? Sort-of-love? How does that happen?”

“I don’t know, I think sometimes we talk ourselves into things that aren’t right for us.”

“Yeah, like, you don’t even know what _right_ is supposed to feel like but there’s this expectation and it made some sort of sense at the time but…”

“It didn’t fit. Wrong time, wrong place, wrong person.”

“Wrong everything.”

*

They look through the book until the hour grows late and cold fog rolls in from the surrounding forest. It’s damp, unpleasant and it obscures the stars. They can barely see the trees now. The moon is a pale, blurred disk overhead. David shivers. “It’s getting creepy out here.”

“Maybe you should get inside.”

David hesitates. “Won’t you be cold?”

“I’ll be fine, there are so many blankets. There’s not room for both of us in there anyway.” 

“Okay.” He looks at Patrick carefully. He wishes he had the courage to just stay. To just stay and fall asleep with Patrick, warm and sweet, beside him. He wishes Patrick would ask him to stay. 

Patrick looks at him for a moment. His eyes shift through a dozen different verses of something before he looks down. “Okay. Good night, David.”

David waits for him to look back up. When he doesn't, David sighs. “Good night, Patrick.” He climbs out of the truck bed. He wraps his blanket around his shoulders and gets into the cab.

He tucks a second blanket against the passenger side door for a pillow and stretches out as best he can. He must be very tired because almost as soon as he closes his eyes, David falls asleep. 

_David is standing by the bridge. There’s a deep, ground shaking rumble. It’s approaching fast. Patrick is standing on the other side of the bridge. David tries to scream but nothing comes out. Patrick is holding up a branch with a flower on it. He smiles and gestures at David to come look. The roaring is growing louder and David can see a wall of water crashing through the trees. He tries to scream again and when nothing comes out, he starts running. He has to get across the bridge. He has to. He has to get across the bridge because if it washes out and he’s separated from Patrick, he’ll die. They’ll both die. They’ll die and Patrick will never know how he feels. He’s running and running and the bridge is getting longer. On the other side, Patrick is holding out his arms, beckoning to him. He’s smiling. He wants him too! David feels joy lift his heart. Patrick wants him too! So he runs and runs and the roar gets louder and louder and he’s not moving. He’s running but he’s not moving. Patrick’s face turns sad. He drops his open arms and he looks away, shaking his head. David screams, “Patrick!”_

David sits bolt upright in the cab of Roland’s truck. Tears spill down his cheeks.The thundering roar is still getting louder. It’s not a dream?! He holds his ears and shouts again. “Patrick!”

The driver’s door is yanked open and Patrick flings himself inside, crawling over David’s legs, panic etched into his face. “David, David! Oh my god what—” 

The water is getting closer. It’s _so_ loud. “Patrick, what’s happening?!” Patrick doesn’t answer, he climbs up David’s body and collapses on top of him. David wraps himself around him, shaking. Both of them are shaking as they babble over each other. The noise is ear splitting. Every other word is lost in the booming roar.

“Patrick— water!”

“— float!”

“— to run!”

“— too close!”

“ —dreamed—”

“Nightmare—”

“You were running—”

“You were waiting—”

“The water—”

“You wanted me—”

“ —had to get to you—”

“David I—”

“Patrick— need—”

They stop talking. The roar is deafening. The water will slam into them in seconds. They’re nose to nose. They brace for impact. 

“David—” Patrick’s lips move but the noise drowns him out.

“Patrick—” David can’t hear his own voice.

Patrick closes the gap between them and presses his lips to David’s.

The roaring stops instantly. The frantic energy that roiled their dreams and brought them to this moment fades away. The fog that surrounds the truck slips back into the trees without a sound. Patrick pulls back and they stare at each other until David grabs his face and brings his mouth back to his own. They kiss, sweet and slow, until a bright light shines up from the footwell of the passenger’s side, startling them apart.

Patrick reaches down and picks up David’s phone. The flashlight is on. He hands it to David. David swipes it open and turns off the flashlight. He becomes very aware of their position. Patrick is warm and heavy and still very much on top of him. Their hearts are still pounding and Patrick is looking at his mouth. 

A light blinks on from the bed of the truck. David gasps. Patrick tears his eyes away from David’s lips. “That’s my phone light. We should, um, maybe we should get out?” 

The words rush, unbidden, into David’s mouth. “No! Can. Can we stay like this? Please? For a minute? I need. I’m still.” David doesn’t know how to express how badly he needs Patrick’s weight on him right now. “That was terrifying Patrick.” His voice is small.

“It was, I know. It’s okay though, we’re okay.” Patrick gathers him close, crooning. “It’s okay, we’re okay. It was just a bad dream. Just a dream, you’re okay baby, it’s okay.” He’s murmuring into David’s ear and rubbing the back of his neck. As hard as it is to process the most frightening dream he’s ever had, as shaken as he is, Patrick calling him _baby_ pierces through all of it and settles softly in his heart.

Patrick himself is still shaking. That he’s comforting him while he is still shaking squeezes David’s heart. He whispers, “We had the same dream though right? We were on the bridge….”

Patrick nods. “Yeah, yeah. Just like Boyd and Jonah.”

“But the noise. The water. Did you hear the water?”

“I heard the water, did you hear… David I heard…” Patrick swallows hard. “I heard them. I heard them crying.” His chest hitches and he presses his forehead to David’s shoulder.

A wave of tenderness closes David’s throat. He holds Patrick close and rubs soothing lines up and down his back. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay. Sshh sshh.” The endearment slips out easily and Patrick responds by burying his face in David’s neck.

Patrick’s voice is muffled. David can feel his breath on his skin. “They wished they could hold each other, kiss, one last time before...before they… That’s why I kissed you.”

David’s hands go still. “You kissed me because a ghost told you to? Is that? Is that the only reason?”

“God, no. No, David. Can we…?” He presses himself off of David and backs out of the truck. He gets out and helps David down and then holds him by the shoulders. “David, I kissed you because I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day we met. I kissed you because I’m crazy about you. I kissed you because it seemed like we were going to be washed away in a flood and I didn’t want to die not knowing how your lips tasted.” Worry shadows his face. “Was that— Is that okay?”

David feels warm all over. “It is very okay. I’d say better than okay. I mean, everything stopped when we kissed, so.” 

Patrick holds David’s waist and pulls him close. “I think we broke the spell.”

David drapes his arms over his shoulders. He’s allowed to do that now. “Must have been a pretty good kiss then, huh?” 

“Best kiss of my life.” 

David bites his lip and rolls his eyes, he could wiggle with the joy those words bring. “Yeah. Yep. Same. Best kiss. Ever.” 

David leans in and presses his forehead to Patrick’s. They laugh softly.

Patrick backs away and takes both of his hands. “Stay with me.”

David shoots a glance into the woods. “I’m not going anywhere, don’t—”

“No, no. Sleep with me. Back. Back there.” He nods at the truck bed. “Just sleep. You don’t—”

My _god_. David’s whole body just sighs with pleasure. “You are so... Patrick.” David steps close and wraps his arms around Patrick’s neck. He feels so safe and right. “I want that. Yes. Let’s.” He takes Patrick’s hand then and leads him to the back of the truck. 

Patrick gestures into the bed. “After you.”

“You just want to watch me crawl in there all awkward don’t you?”

“Possibly.”

“And look at my ass again.”

“Definitely.” 

They crawl over the soft rugs and get situated under several blankets. David is tucked under Patrick’s arm, his cheek resting on his chest. The sound of Patrick’s heart and the rise and fall of his chest lulls David and he can feel himself slipping into sleep already.

He wraps his arm across Patrick’s ribs. “I like you so much, Patrick.”

Patrick hums and holds him tighter. “I like you so much too, David.”

David whispers, “This part isn’t a dream is it?”

Patrick runs his fingers through David’s hair, he pulls it a little, tilting his head back. “Not a dream.” He kisses him softly. “Dream come true maybe…” 

David snorts and Patrick chuckles against his lips. “I know it’s corny. I’m not the poet that either Boyd or Jonah was. But I’ve wanted this for a long time, David.”

“Me too.” 

They kiss for a while, but they don’t rush. They’re exhausted and they have lots of time. They snuggle together and burrow deep under the blankets and fall asleep. They share a dream that they won’t recall the next morning. A dream that’s not a dream. 

_Two ethereal figures of wispy white light emerge from the woods and approach the bridge from opposite sides. They move noiselessly toward each other and meet in the middle. Soft, sweet laughter echoes through the trees. The figures circle each other. Faster and faster. Until they blend together and rise up into the air. The light form rises up and up, over the tops of the trees. Higher and higher. Smaller and smaller._

There’s a faint popping sound that causes both men to open their eyes just in time to see a meteor streak across the sky. 

David murmurs, “See that?”

Patrick nods. “Mhm.”

“That was them.”

“I know.”

*

The next morning, Selna Robert’s phone rings. She smiles when she sees who it is. 

“What do you want, old man?”

A deep voice rumbles in her ear. “Selna Mae Robert. What did you do?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She holds the phone away from her, so he won’t hear her smother a laugh.

“Girl, I had a helluva dream last night so I know you were up to somethin’.”

“You woulda done the same, given the opportunity.”

“Well, I think you did it Sel.”

“Oh, I didn’t do so much. They did the work. I just put a few pieces in place. You know how it goes.”

“That I do. I think it worked. I don’t feel ol’ Uncle Jonah no more”

“Oh, I know it worked. I’m just waitin’ for them boys to bring Boyd’s book back now. They should be here soon.”

“You makin’ ‘em breakfast?” 

“I am. Lots too, ‘cause the tall one’s a big eater. You comin’?”

“Why, thank you for the invite Ms. Robert. Be there in two shakes.”

“See you soon. Oh, and Mr. Hockley? Bring some of your tea won’t you? I’m all out.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Huge and unending gratitude to missgeevious


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